The Massage

Masseur doing massage the head of an adult woman in the spa salo

So relaxing, peaceful, and …. WTF?!

 

As a Mother’s Day gift, from our kind husbands, my girlfriend Amy and I were sent out for an afternoon of indulgence and relaxation. Both of us pregnant, and with little ones at home, we were grateful for the chance to be de-stressed and pampered.

Our afternoon began with high tea, whilst overlooking Manchester’s city centre, where we savoured gourmet finger sandwiches and gorged our pregnant selves silly, on tiny cakes.

This ever-so traditional English experience, was followed by a spa treatment of a less traditional nature. We were rubbed and scrubbed from head to toe for sixty heavenly minutes…

Sigh. 

And afterwards, feeling both rejuvenated and useless, we beached our indulged bodies on lounge chairs in the spa’s relaxation room. There, peppermint tea in hand, Amy and I had the following conversation:

Amy: “That citrus oil was sooo nice. I think I’ll buy some.”

Me: : “It was nice. You should.”

Amy: “What a great massage. So relaxing. I don’t even want to move!”

Me: “I know. Me neither. I have to admit, though, I was a bit caught off guard by the boob rub…”

Amy: (unbeaching herself with a shocking level of agility) “The what rub?”

Me: “Boob rub… You know, when she put on the anti-stretch mark lotion?”

Amy: “Are you kidding me?! What do you mean?”

Me: “What do you mean? You didn’t have one?”

Amy: “NO!? Like… When? How?”

Me: “Well, she was applying the shea butter, in a circular motion, on my bump and surrounding area and then she gave my boobs a total rub down! It was sort of like a slow motion, holistic version, of Tune in Tokyo. Only slightly less awkward.”

Amy: “Oh my GOD!” (starts laughing).

Me: ….

Amy: “Sooo. How was it?”

Me: “Well, after the initial “what the hell?” moment, it was actually sorta nice.”

Amy: (suddenly serious) “Wait a minute. Why did you get a boob rub and I didn’t?”

Me: “I don’t know! I guess you’ll have to ask for Jessica, next time…”

*******

Well, next time never did happen. Neither Amy, nor I, called to book a massage with Jessica. A surprise boob rub is one thing but signing up for a pre-planned one, is a bit too X-rated for us suburban moms. Instead, life carried on as it always had; after I answered a few predictably basic questions, from my husband, that is. Yes, she was hot and yes, I actually did like it.

 

This post first appeared on BLUNTmoms.

 

Did you know that Shannon Day and 36 other fab writers have created a book? Well, it’s actually a martini guide too. If you like funny, ridiculous, and heartstring-tugging stories of motherhood (+ easy-to-make martini & mocktini recipes) then you’ll love Martinis & Motherhood: Tales of Wonder, Woe & WTF?!  Available now on Amazon.

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00067]

 

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Hey Pilates Teacher, Lose the Latte

bigstock-Female-hands-holding-hot-mug-c-73013134.jpg

I saw you today, on my way out of yoga. You were there, waiting for the studio to clear, so you and the others could pile in. There seemed to be, as usual, a decent turn out. At least 20 people were waiting, mats at the ready, smiles on their faces. You were clearly prepared, too, with your usual instructional tool and attire…

I fought back my annoyance as I passed through the group. You see, I attended your Pilates class three times last year and haven’t been back. Unfortunately, you are the main instructor at the gym, so I haven’t done Pilates since then. I have, instead, chosen to do yoga and to use the machines and weights.

I used to like Pilates, so I feel a bit peeved. But… only when I see you with your latte.

Yes, when I see you, in your chosen gym garb, Starbucks in hand, I’m reminded of the three classes that I spent sweating on a mat at your whim. I’d been there, following your instructions, holding my plank until my arms turned to jelly, sweating it out through the 100 as you lead the session- using nothing but your voice. You’d sat there, at the front of the room, cupping your latte in both hands as if relaxing fireside, on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

The first time you did this, I simply assumed you weren’t feeling well. The second time, when you were sitting all cosy-like, again, I wondered if maybe you had a bad back or morning sickness, perhaps. I noted that the others in the class seemed unfazed by your lack of participation and the fact that you were actually sporting a fucking poncho!

So, curious as to WTF?!, I asked the lady next to me: “Does she always teach from a seated position while sipping a coffee?” She smiled and told me that yes, in fact, she did.

Well, that was it!

I was done.

Maybe the others didn’t mind being guided by the voice of the Chillaxing Champion of Canada, but I did! And I can’t imagine I’m the only one who doesn’t want to gaze upon a coffee-sipper while sweating my core off.

We get it, winter is cold and demotivating. We all know this! Which is why we come to you. We need you to energize us and inspire us. We need you to put us in motion not to ignite in us a feeling of envy over your Starbucks and your Boho shawl with tassels. (Which is really gorgeous, by the way.) You see, Pilates class isn’t the time to stay comfy or to see how close you can get to full fetal, while remaining upright. It’s just not the place for that. When we, the students, look up, sweat dripping from our brow, we want to see you exercising too.

So do us a favour, Moonbeam, next time- leave your poncho and your Starbucks at the door. Is this really too much to ask?

 

This post originally ran on BLUNTmoms. 

 

Did you know that Shannon Day and 36 other fab writers have created a book? Well, it’s actually a martini guide too. If you like funny, ridiculous, and heartstring-tugging stories of motherhood (+ easy-to-make martini & mocktini recipes) then you’ll love Martinis & Motherhood: Tales of Wonder, Woe & WTF?! Available now on Amazon.

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00067]

How to Make Cleaning FUN (tips from a 6-year-old)

Young Happy Beautiful Woman Maid Dusting On White

“I love cleaning! See my smile?!”

With 2016 officially underway, the time has come to tidy and organize our way out from under that inevitable mountain of holiday mess. It’s tasks such as these that leave us, “keepers of the home,” feeling disgruntled, shat upon even, or downright ready to blow!

Sure, fun times have been had. But the aftermath of such fun has the power to erase all the goodness by making a tidying dad or mum feel all sorts of glum.

That’s right we may experience a sense of anger or woe when we find ourselves ass-deep in Rainbow Loom bands (I thought this was last year’s trend?), dried up play dough creations (What the hell are these things anyway?), and abandoned Barbie shoes (I’m just going to throw these little mofos out once and for all!).

The glum can even creep-in when our kids lend a helping (or forced) hand because, let’s be honest here, their efforts are only nice “in theory.” In reality, little hands can only do so much. The fact is, the bulk of the household cleaning and organizing is left for the grown-ups to do. And, in my case, I’m the grown-up in charge…

*sigh*

Luckily for me, my 6-year-old has my back. Not only has she noted that I appear bogged down by a shoulder-load’s worth of shit, she has kindly offered some helpful tips to make cleaning more “fun” for me. I am happy to report that, after only a few days of implementing these simple-yet-effective strategies, more “cleaning fun” has been experienced!

This got me thinking, maybe other cleaners of the home would benefit from her helpful tips. So, here you go…

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